A Lotta Love in Little Africa

Because I know a little bit about the history of Blacks in Paris, I scribbled on my "to see" list to visit where Blacks live in the city. After a bit of research, I found out about a part of town coined "Little Africa." My cabbie in NYC told me specifically to visit St. Denis where he has lots of family. Got it and done!

The plan for today was to visit an Afro-French restaurant in St. Denis called Monoko that I'd read a few reviews for and go to the Marche de Puces market for some shopping. So I trekked there on the train (after yesterday's trip to the movies, I've pretty much mastered the train system, tres facile). Oh and oddly, I ran into Victoria (woman from front desk of hotel) on the train today with her son. Small world!  

I find the place pretty easily and what happens next is more of the same amazingness that Paris has served up since I arrived. As soon as I walk in, I'm met with Nigerian music blaring and the loud bellowing of African men from a table of people. I instantly feel super warm. So I tell the woman a table for one and, as I'm being led to a table on the other side of the party, I'm met by one of the men, Marcel. He walks up to me and says something in French that ends with him telling me I'm beautiful (notice how I only understand compliments in French?!) So I thank him, tell him in French that I don't speak much of it and he says, "You speak English? Where you from?" So I tell him the U.S. and begin to sit down. He immediately says that I'm part of the family and that I should sit with them.Ok, I think, it sure beats sitting next to them pretending that I don't really want to be all in their business!

So I pull up a chair to a table with about 7 people already crowded around and am instantly poured a glass of champagne. Now y'all, this wasn't no discount champagne or no Asti Spumante. They were drinking Moët & Chandon and Veuve Clicquot. Next time you're at the store, try not falling over from a heart attack at those prices. Of course I totally know the prices and offer him money for my portion. "No, no, we are African, you are our guest and it is our honor! Now drink up, you only live once!"

Ok, if you insistttttt!

So as we get acquainted, I realize that Marcel, who owns a club in Paris and continues ordering bottles of champagne at $85 each, is one of a couple people there who speak English fluently. So between his translations between me and others and me catching every third word, I learn that most everyone is from the Ivory Coast (their native language is French), has been in Paris for upwards of 5 years and is all about having a good time and apparently does well for themselves. The other names were As (who liked me and was jealous that he couldn't speak English so I pulled out my translator app so we could chat back and forth), Adams from Milan, Yaya who lives in Paris but who I'm almost certain was partners with Adams judging from the way he was touching his leg and body language (for Africans that'sactually bold and awesome). Then we have Angel who owned the restaurant, Caroline who was wild and crazy and my good buddy Horphet who speaks English and who I married before the afternoon ended. Marcel ordered the most amazing tilapia for me and after about 10 minutes it was a plate of bones. Yummmmmmm!

After leaving there, Horphet, Caroline and I took a cab, they dropped me off at the market, warned me about pickpocketers and promised to hang out later. I was invited by Marcel to the club later but of course ended up exploring Paris so I didn't make it. I am hanging out with Horphet tomorrow when he gets off work, so I'm excited! Yayyyyyy!

It was amazing, nothing I could have dreamed of and completely touching. When I got on the train, I was expecting it to be a good day. In true Paris fashion, a good day turned great because of the people. 

My buddy Marcel

As, Adams, Yaya and Caroline (in the background)

Me and As

Me and Horphet

There's a delicious piece of tilapia under there! 

KILLING.IT!

When we were leaving the guy on the left asked for my hand in marriage. So Horphet had to defend my honor as his wife! LOL

A couple pics from the Marche du Puces market...so huge and overwhelming with anything you could ever want.